


Just One of Those Things

by afterthenovels



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bagels and bars, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6480457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterthenovels/pseuds/afterthenovels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>dreamingofklainebows prompted:</b> (From a NYC prompt post) You get a breakfast sandwich at the bagel place where I work every morning and I get a drink at the bar you tend every night and we both know each other’s regular order and Don’t Talk About It AU</p>
<p>Blaine works at a bagel place. Kurt works in a bar. It becomes a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just One of Those Things

**Author's Note:**

> I'm baaaaack! This was supposed to be just a silly little thing, but then the boys got feelings and, well, over 6,000 words later... :D

“Did I miss him?” Blaine gasps out as he bursts into the Bagel Label, panting and his hair sticking in every direction.

Sam just rolls his eyes and tosses Blaine an apron from where he’s leaning against the counter. “No, dude, you didn’t miss him. Mr. Tall, Blue-Eyed And Handsome hasn’t made an appearance yet, even if you are fifteen minutes late.”

“Thank goodness.” Blaine throws his bag in the back room and then starts tying on his apron. It’s light brown with little circles on it, to kind of look like bagels. Except they don’t really look like bagels at all, but don’t tell that to his boss. She’s a sweet woman who pays well and understands struggling students, but her graphic design skills aren’t the best around. “I forgot to plug in my phone, so the battery died and my alarm never went off,” he explains, still trying to catch his breath and finishing the apron’s strings with a bow. “And you know his name is not Mr. Tall, Blue-Eyed And Handsome. It’s Kurt,” he adds, glaring at Sam.

“I only know that because you’re a creepy stalker who once heard him answer his phone while you were making his sandwich,” Sam points out, his leaning turning more into slouching as he lets his elbows slide forward on the counter. “And because you also never ever shut up about him. Ever.”

It’s early, ridiculously so, and there are only a few customers munching on their bagels in the far corner of the shop, looking half-asleep. Blaine still glances at their faces, making sure one of them doesn’t happen to be Kurt. Sam isn’t the most observant of people, even if he never messes up an order. Except that one time pop diva Mercedes Jones was in town. Then Sam was the one who couldn’t shut up. Blaine has that ammunition ready if Sam takes his teasing too far.

“I just... It’s become a tradition, okay,” Blaine tries to explain, bending down to use the shiny surface of the coffee machine as a mirror. “And it’s nice, to have regular customers like that. Nice regular customers.”

Sam rests his chin in his hands and smacks his lips. “Don’t you mean handsome and most likely gay regular customers?”

Blaine keeps his eyes on the coffee machine, carefully trying to arrange his hair back in order. Running to work is not good for his gelled hair, and he really hopes his face isn’t actually shining with sweat as much as the coffee machine is making it look like. “You can’t know if he’s gay. Just because he wears designer clothes...”

The bell above the door makes a sound at that exact moment, and Blaine immediately straightens up, probably looking like a deer caught in headlights. Because there he is. Looking more gorgeous than is appropriate for this time of the day, wearing yet another designer jacket and yet another pair of skin-tight jeans, his hair swooped up high and his laced-up boots making his long legs look even longer.

_Kurt_.

The bright spot in Blaine’s early morning shifts and the reason he keeps asking for these shifts, even though he could really use the extra sleep.

“See? He was just a little late, same as you,” Sam sighs and moves away from the counter. He knows by now that there are some customers –- well, one -– that Blaine will always handle.

“Does my hair look okay?” Blaine hisses as they pass each other in the small space behind the counter. Kurt is already moving closer to the checkout, pulling his stylish sunglasses away from his face. “I didn’t have enough time to gel it properly this morning, so I had to improvise with the little I had–-”

“You look fine, dude.” Sam grabs a few empty plates. “Go get him!” he whispers right before he disappears into the back room.

Blaine quickly takes a deep breath and then turns around, coming face to face with Kurt. Kurt is smiling, just like he is every morning, and as soon as he sees him Blaine can feel his own mouth turning up into a genuine smile as well, not the usual customer service smile he reserves for many of the other customers. Kurt is definitely not like the other customers. He always looks so gorgeous that he might as well be a model for Vogue or something, but he’s also very nice and polite and smiles at Blaine as if he’s somehow made Kurt’s morning infinitely brighter. And he also tips generously, as if he really appreciates the people working in the service industry.

“Good morning!” Blaine chirps. He tried to tone it down, he really did, but no such luck, apparently. “Chicken sandwich with goat cheese and arugula, right?”

And just like every other morning, Kurt looks pleasantly surprised by the fact that Blaine remembered his order, as if this hasn’t already happened before. “Yes, that’s the one,” he says, pushing his sunglasses into his hair. “And can I get some of that amazing avocado salsa in it as well?”

Blaine is already reaching for the salsa container, like he does every morning. “Sure thing!”

He makes the sandwich extra quickly but still carefully, making sure the goat cheese is spread out evenly and that the avocado salsa isn’t going to fall out. He’s good at his job, even though it’s not exactly something he wants to do for the rest of his life, but he always takes extra special care with this particular sandwich, trying to ascertain that Kurt gets the best possible breakfast but doesn’t ruin his beautiful jacket with accidental drippings of goat cheese or avocado.

He wraps the sandwich tightly, so that it’s easy to eat on the go –- Kurt never eats at the Bagel Label, so he must be on his way to work when he comes in –- and then turns around, placing the finished sandwich on the counter with a grin and, okay, maybe with a little flourish as well.

Kurt already has the money ready. “Thank you,” he says, smiling so wide that his teeth are showing. He somehow looks both hot and adorable at the same time, and it’s so not fair. “Keep the change,” he adds as he takes the sandwich. “You basically saved my morning with this.”

“No problem!” Blaine drops the change in the tip jar and bounces a little on his toes. “That’s what we do here at the Bagel Label!”

Kurt’s smile widens, and he looks a bit amused. “And thank you for that,” he says decisively, pulling his sunglasses down and turning around with one last glance at Blaine. Blaine likes to think that the look in Kurt’s eyes could be described as flirty.

“Have a nice day!” he calls out after him.

“You too!” Kurt calls back over his shoulder as he walks out of the shop, the bell above the door dinging again. As soon as he’s disappeared into the buzzle of the city outside, Blaine slumps against the counter and sighs happily, closing his eyes to savor the mental image of Kurt’s smile. It’s weird how such a small interaction can always brighten up his day this much.

“... ‘That’s what we do here at the Bagel Label’?” Sam’s voice comes from the back room, higher than normally as if to imitate Blaine.

Blaine groans, burying his face in his hands. “Shut up.”

“Seriously?” Sam comes out and slaps him on the back of his head. “Was that the longest conversation you’ve ever had? Because that was pathetic, dude.”

“It’s a thing, okay?” Blaine argues. “We don’t talk about it. Talking would only ruin the illusion and make it seem like something more than it actually is.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Sam says. “There are dirty dishes at the back, you wanna deal with them now that your crush has left?”

Blaine groans again. “Fine.”

At least he has tonight to look forward to.

 

\---

 

Kurt likes his job at the bar. He really does. The place isn’t seedy or dirty like some of the other bars he’s been to since he came to New York –- it’s just a mellow, low-key piano bar that attracts a lot of artistic folk, like art students or Broadway hopefuls. They have karaoke every Friday, open mic every Thursday and a new DJ every Wednesday, and Kurt even bumps into some of his old classmates every now and then. Besides, it’s nice to have some extra money while he waits for one of his auditions to pay off. Vogue by morning, auditions by day, bar tending by night. It’s a combination that surprisingly works, even if it doesn’t really leave a lot of room for a social life.

“So has he been in yet?” Elliott asks him over the music blasting from the speakers, skillfully throwing a few empty beer bottles into the trash.

“Who?” Kurt asks haughtily, even though he knows exactly who Elliott is talking about. He hands the change to a group of giggling girls who all ordered appletinis and watches them disappear towards the tiny dance floor in front of the stage. They have a new DJ tonight, since it’s Wednesday, and the crowd seems to love her. He just really hopes that those giggling girls will drink their appletinis before trying any dance moves. Appletinis are a pain to wash off from dresses like that.

“The guy with the hair gel?” Elliott answers, gesturing at his own hair. “What did you say his name was? Blaine?”

“I did not,” Kurt argues. Except he did. He totally checked out Blaine’s name tag at the Bagel Label a few days ago, wanting to have a name to go with the handsome face, and then hopelessly gushed about it to Elliott the same evening. “And anyway, I haven’t seen him yet. Maybe he decided to go somewhere else.”

Elliott laughs. “Aw, don’t worry, I’m sure he hasn’t deserted you.”

“Stop it.” Kurt shoves at him, but not too hard –- they are standing in the middle of glasses and bottles, after all. “He’s just nice, okay? I like having polite customers.”

“Yeah, he sure is nice to look at,” Elliott teases and waggles his eyebrows. “Don’t try to hide, I’ve seen you staring at his ass.”

Kurt shrugs and tries to look nonchalant about the whole thing, even if he can feel himself blushing. “Okay, yes, he’s good-looking, of course I’ve noticed that. But he’s probably straight anyway. Or dating that blonde guy he usually comes with.”

“The guy who spends most of his time hitting on every single girl in this bar? I don’t think so,” Elliott sing-songs.

“Just... shut up and serve these thirsty people,” Kurt bites back hastily, mostly because he can’t come up with a better argument.

He keeps his eyes on his watch, though, while making drinks and selling more and more beer. Blaine usually comes around nine or ten, either with the blonde guy who also works at the Bagel Label or with a bigger group of people. He doesn’t stay that long on weekdays, unless it’s karaoke or open mic night, when he can end up staying for several hours and several alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks, listening to the different performers. Those are Kurt’s favorite nights. Blaine looks like he appreciates music, and Kurt has come up with several different scenarios and identities for him, all of them some version of a struggling musician who works at the sandwich shop to pay for his classes at Juilliard or something. Tisch, maybe. Or perhaps even NYADA, though then Kurt would have probably run into him sooner.

Elliott breezes past Kurt just as the DJ announces that she’s taking a short break after the next song. “He’s here,” he whispers into Kurt’s ear in a lilting voice and then clicks his tongue suggestively.

Kurt straightens up from where he’s hunched over the soda taps, peering over the crowd. He notices the blonde guy first, because he’s taller, but when he cranes his neck a little more, he finally sees Blaine as well. He looks very handsome in a tight polo shirt that shows off his arms and with a bowtie around his neck, his hair gelled more properly than it was this morning. It’s not a look Kurt would usually go for, but Blaine pulls it off so incredibly well, like he was born to wear clothes like that or like he should be starring in an old-fashioned movie alongside Gene Kelly, that Kurt can’t help the small happy sigh that escapes his lips.

Blaine already saved his morning today, and now he’s going to save his evening as well. Bless him.

He watches as Blaine and the blonde guy exchange words and gesture at the bar until the blonde guy claps Blaine on the shoulder and starts moving through the crowd towards the tables at the back. Instead of following his friend, Blaine pushes through the line of people moving around the bar. He somehow ends up right in front of Kurt, and as he looks up and sees him behind the bar, his eyes light up in a way that makes Kurt’s heart skip a beat or two.

Good god he’s gorgeous. Good-looking doesn’t even begin to describe him.

“Hi!” Blaine shouts over the music and leans against the bar. “Can I get-–”

“Two beers?” Kurt interrupts. “Coming right up!”

He knows that Blaine always orders a beer first. That’s the only thing he drinks on most nights, unless he ends up staying for more than an hour or two. Kurt even knows which brand of beer Blaine likes the best, and he knows that if Blaine comes with the blonde guy, he’ll always order two beers instead of one.

“You know my order?” Blaine comments with a grin, just like he always does. “I’m flattered.”

Kurt flashes him a smile. “Just part of the job.”

Elliott appears in front of the beer cooler right at that moment, blocking Kurt’s way and waggling his eyebrows like the idiot he is. Kurt raises his own eyebrows at him, trying to get him to move away, but Elliott just shimmies his shoulders and dances around him with two mojitos in his hands, somehow managing not to spill them.

“What are you doing?” Kurt hisses at him, thankful for the loud music that will hide his words from Blaine.

“You should ask him out,” Elliot suggests and clinks the mojito glasses together. “Or at least buy him a drink. Just say it’s on the house and then wink at him, that should do the trick.” As if the illustrate his words, he then winks at Kurt.

“You’re an idiot,” Kurt whispers and glances at Blaine over his shoulder. Thankfully he seems to be tapping at his phone instead of paying attention to the drama behind the bar. “That’s not how this works. We don’t talk about stuff like that.”

“Why not? You obviously like him, and judging by the way he looks like a lovesick puppy every time you two make eye contact, I’m pretty sure he likes you too.”

“You can’t know that,” Kurt argues and finally pushes Elliott out of the way to grab the beers. “Talking would just ruin the illusion. This is just, you know, harmless fun to get us through our days.”

“You’re the one who’s an idiot,” Elliott comments.

Kurt shrugs at him and then turns around, placing the beer bottles in front of Blaine. “Here you go,” he says in a normal voice, pushing Elliott’s words out of his head with a smile. “Sorry for the wait.”

Blaine startles and looks up from his phone, first at the beer bottles and then at Kurt. He kind of looks like he forgot where he is for a moment, his eyes wide and surprised. “Wha–- oh, yeah, no problem, thanks,” he says in a rush and reaches for his wallet.

Kurt takes the money but keeps his eyes on Blaine. He’s gone back to staring at his phone again, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth turned down in a troubled expression. It’s such a startling contrast to the way Blaine normally looks like that Kurt feels... worried. Worried for this practical stranger who makes him his sandwich every morning and buys a beer from him every night.

“Here you go,” he says as he hands Blaine the change. Blaine takes it, which is another oddity –- usually he tells Kurt to keep the change, just like Kurt does at the Bagel Label. But now he takes it, still looking a little lost, and places it back in his wallet as if on auto-pilot.

“Thanks,” Blaine says. He flashes Kurt a smile, but it’s nowhere near as happy and wide as his usual smiles.

“Are you-–” Kurt starts as Blaine takes the beer bottles. Blaine stops and looks at him, eyebrows raised in question.

_Talking would just ruin the illusion_.

“I mean... you’re welcome,” Kurt finishes lamely. “Have a nice night.”

Blaine nods with a small, resigned smile and then turns around, heading towards the tables at the back where his friend is probably waiting for him. Kurt stays still, staring after him, and not even looking at his ass like he usually does.

“What’s wrong with lover boy?” Elliott asks as he appears next to him again, twirling a shaker in his hands.

“I don’t know,” Kurt answers slowly. Except... Oh god, maybe Blaine heard the conversation between him and Elliott after all? He was trying to speak in a low voice, but sometimes Elliott forgets that even though they work in a bar, not everything needs to be yelled out loud.

... Oh no. No no no no. Didn’t Elliott even call Blaine a lovesick puppy? Why must he have such meddling friends?

Kurt quickly stands on his tiptoes, ignoring the waiting customers, and watches as Blaine reaches his blonde friend on the other side of the room. The friend seems to notice something is wrong as well, because he stands up and places a hand on Blaine’s shoulder, bending down to meet his eyes. Blaine says something to him and gestures at the phone still in his hand. He must have gotten some bad news while he was waiting for the beers, since the phone seems to be the key to this whole thing. Kurt would breathe a sigh of relief, but he’s still worried, almost unnaturally so, and he doesn’t even notice how Elliott gently pushes him aside and starts working his side of the bar as well.

Blaine and his friend are still talking, the friend obviously trying to offer some words of advice, but Blaine just shakes his head and places his untouched beer on a nearby table. He says something, looking frustrated, and then turns around, starting to make his way through the crowd towards the front door as fast as he can. The friend quickly downs his own beer before running after Blaine, catching him just as he reaches the door. The last thing Kurt sees is the blonde guy draping his arm over Blaine’s shoulders as they step out.

Kurt drops his heels back on the floor and leans against the bar. He feels strange all of a sudden, like he’s not really here at the bar, the sounds muffled and the lights dimmed. It felt so weird to see Blaine look like that, sad and distracted and... disappointed, maybe? Kurt hasn’t spent enough time with him to recognize his expressions that well. He should’ve probably asked Blaine if he was okay instead of just wishing him a nice night.

Except... He doesn’t really know Blaine at all, does he? He has no right to ask him personal questions like that. He knows that Blaine wears bowties, makes excellent sandwiches and likes music, but those are such tiny things in a person’s life. He doesn’t know what’s going on in Blaine’s life outside the Bagel Label and the bar, doesn’t know if he’s a student or a recent graduate or just someone trying to get by. He doesn’t know where he buys his bowties from or even what kind of sandwiches he likes –- or if working in a sandwich shop has made him give up sandwiches altogether. He certainly doesn’t know the reasons for Blaine’s smiles or for the dejected look in his eyes.

But he suddenly realizes that he _wants_ to know. He wants to know it all, wants to know more and more, until Blaine becomes a person instead of a name. Wants to comfort him when he’s sad and smile with him when he’s happy.

Their thing started out as an illusion, in a way; a nice little inside joke that neither one of them talked about because talking would somehow ruin the magical world they had built, the one that didn’t exist outside the sandwich shop and the bar, the one where they knew each other’s orders as if they knew something deeper and more meaningful, and could pretend the other one was whatever they wanted them to be. Just a smile and a knowing look to start the morning and end the night.

But somewhere between the bagels and the beers there was always a potential for more. And though Kurt has denied it, has turned the whole thing into a cute little story he can tell his friends about, he wants to find out what that more is like.

Blaine is not just an illusion or someone in on a private joke. He’s an actual person. And apparently Kurt already cares about him way too much, judging by his reaction to seeing Blaine upset.

“Kurt? Kurt!”

He startles out of his thoughts when Elliott slaps him on the shoulder. There’s a long line to the bar, people waiting for their drinks, and though Elliott looks a little worried, he also looks like a bartender who can’t handle this many customers on his own.

“Sorry,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “Sorry, I got lost there for a moment.”

“You okay?” Elliott asks. “Because I need help, but I’m not going to force you to work if you’re feeling dizzy or something.”

“I’m fine,” Kurt assures him. “Just... Can you stay after work? Talk for a while?”

Elliott nods and squeezes Kurt’s shoulder. “Sure.” He returns to his own side of the bar and points at a group of college students waiting impatiently on Kurt’s side of it. “They all want beers. Start with that.”

Kurt smiles gratefully. “Thanks.”

He takes a deep breath and gets back to work.

 

\---

 

It’s a rainy, depressing morning. Which suits Blaine just fine, to be perfectly honest. There are no customers at the Bagel Label, thanks to the miserable weather, and Sam is running an errand for their boss, which means that Blaine is completely free to press his forehead against the counter, his arms stretched out over it so that his hands are hanging off the edge. He tried thumping his head against the counter at first, but that actually hurt, so now he’s just lying there, nursing his bruised ego.

He knows it’s a bit ridiculous to be this overdramatic about it, but he just really, _really_ wanted that part in the new student production. He had rehearsed for it for weeks already –- had spent all of his limited free time learning the dance moves until he could do them in his sleep and gone through the script so many times that even his nuances had nuances.

He knows he was good. The director had loved his audition, and she had basically offered him the role on the spot, but then last night when he went for a drink with Sam he got a text from her telling him that she was sorry and had “decided to go in a different direction”.

Blaine’s not stupid. He knows what those words mean. It’s never been said out loud, but he knows that there are people in the production who don’t like him for some reason, and he knows that they must have influenced the director’s decision. Told her that Blaine isn’t good enough for the role, or that he doesn’t have enough edginess to play such a complicated character, or that he isn’t in a good enough shape for the intricate dance numbers. Maybe they even played the gay card -– that he’s too gay to play an utterly masculine womanizer. All lies, but an inexperienced director might easily believe them to be true.

It’s stupid, and petty, and vindictive –- but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

He doesn’t even know why those people don’t like him, and that’s what makes it even worse. He hates it when people don’t like him. They’ve been rude and gossipy ever since that one class they shared with Blaine in freshman year, and though it hadn’t really affected Blaine’s college experience before, it certainly has now. He thought that people in college were supposed to be professional and act like adults when it matters, but apparently some college students are still very much like petty children.

Blaine sighs and closes his eyes, pressing his forehead more firmly against the counter. He’s a senior, and this should’ve been his year. There are other plays he can and will audition for, but the rejection still stings, especially after everything he did for the part. He is allowed to be sad about it. Sam tried to cheer him up last night after they left the bar, but eventually he just accepted that Blaine was going to spend the next few days eating cronuts and watching Marvel movies to ease the pain. He’ll be back to himself after that.

The bell above the front door dings, the sound loud and piercing in the shop’s quietness, and Blaine quickly drags himself off the counter. His boss might be understanding, but she still expects her workers to look sharp in front of customers. So Blaine straightens his shoulders, wipes his hands on his apron, and forces a polite smile on his face.

“Welcome to the Bagel Label, what can I get–-” he starts –- only to come face to face with Kurt. Kurt. He’d completely forgotten about him in the middle of his rejection angst, and suddenly the practiced speech gets tangled in his mouth. “Uh, um... I mean. Hi?”

“Hi!” Kurt replies brightly. He’s wearing a gorgeous rain coat -– where does he find these things, the only rain coats Blaine has ever found have been fashion disasters –- and closes his sleek black umbrella as he steps closer to the register. “Horrible weather today, isn’t it?”

Blaine blinks in surprise. “Um.” It takes a moment but finally his brain seems to kick in. “Yeah. Really... dreadful?” He pauses, wets his lips, and then tries again. “Chicken with goat cheese, arugula and avocado salsa, right?” he asks, reaching for the avocado salsa container.

“Actually,” Kurt speaks up, halting Blaine’s movement, “I was thinking of having just a simple tomato and mozzarella bagel today. With some pesto, if that’s possible.”

Blaine blinks again. That’s definitely new. Kurt has never ordered anything different before. “Y-yeah, sure,” he says. “Coming right up.”

He lets go of the avocado salsa and reaches for the pesto instead. His movements feels slow and sluggish, still caught in the funk of his failed audition and in the confusion of Kurt’s unusual behavior, but thankfully Kurt doesn’t seem to be in any hurry this morning. He’s leaning against the counter and humming under his breath as he waits, twirling the umbrella in his hand. Blaine can see Kurt following his movements from the corner of his eye, tracking the way he puts the bagel together but also moving over his body, from his arms to his... butt?

Did Kurt just check out his _ass_?

“Did you change your hair?” Kurt asks suddenly.

Blaine fumbles with the tomatoes, almost dropping them to the floor but managing to catch the slices at the last possible moment. This really isn’t just like every other morning. They never really... _talk_ , even though Blaine would love to talk to Kurt properly and Sam thinks he’s pathetic for not asking Kurt out already. It’s just become this thing: Kurt comes in, Blaine makes him his usual sandwich, Kurt pays and thanks him, Blaine wishes him a good day, Kurt leaves with a smile. The same thing happens in the bar every night: Blaine comes in, Kurt gives him his usual beer, Blaine pays and thanks him, Kurt wishes him a nice night, Blaine goes to spend his evening with Sam or his other friends. There’s no small talk between them, or random comments about the weather, or questions about their day or something. They don’t talk about it. Period.

Except now Kurt is talking.

“Um,” Blaine stammers, “n-no, not really. Just ran out of gel this morning.” More like he was too tired to do anything to his hair, but Kurt doesn’t need to know that.

Kurt hums. He sounds appreciative. “It looks good on you,” he says casually.

Blaine blinks again, and then suddenly he feels something warm spreading over his cheeks. He ducks his head, hoping Kurt can’t see his blush, and smiles down at the bagel he’s making. The warmth spreads down his neck and all over his chest, settling around his heart and soothing his worries, waking up the butterflies in his stomach.

There Kurt goes again, making Blaine’s morning infinitely brighter -– except this time it feels even better than usually because Kurt just complimented his hair, the one thing Blaine has always been self-conscious about.

“You left pretty quickly last night,” Kurt goes on. “At the bar, I mean. Is...” He hesitates for a moment, the twirling umbrella coming to a stop. “Is everything alright?”

Blaine looks up. Kurt is staring at him, his eyes soft and worried, as if he really cares about Blaine’s well-being. That’s new as well. In a good way. In a way that makes Blaine feel even warmer.

“I’m fine, really,” he says and shrugs, not wanting to go into the whole story of his audition and the people who torpedoed his chances. “Just... Just got some bad news, that’s all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kurt says immediately, his eyebrows furrowing. “Nothing too serious, I hope?”

“School stuff,” Blaine explains and finally adds the tomato slices on Kurt’s bagel. “I’m a senior at NYU. Tisch, to be precise.”

Kurt smiles as if he was right about something. “We’re in the same line of work then. I graduated from NYADA last year.”

Blaine’s stops, incredulous. “Oh my god. Are you kidding me?”

“Nope.” Kurt pops out the last sound of the word, looking satisfied.

“Wow, that’s-– That is a pretty big coincidence, actually,” Blaine gushes. “I thought about applying to NYADA, when I was in high school, but then Tisch won me over, and that’s... Doesn’t NYADA only accept like a few people every year? That’s so amazing, Kurt.”

The name slips out before he even realizes it, and if he wasn’t holding mozzarella in both of his hands, he would slap one of them over his mouth.

But Kurt just raises his eyebrows in surprise, a smile playing on his lips. “You know my name?”

Blaine cringes. “Yeah, sorry. I swear I’m not a creepy stalker or anything, I just-– I heard you answer your phone the other day when you were waiting for your order. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have eavesdropped like that.”

“Blaine, it’s okay.” When Blaine only blinks at Kurt in confusion, he reaches out to flick at the name tag pinned to Blaine’s apron. “I might have checked your tag,” Kurt admits sheepishly.

Blaine lets out a relieved laugh. “So you know my name as well?”

Kurt shrugs. “And your regular drink. Just like you know my sandwich order.”

There’s something curious in his eyes, and Blaine stops. “We’re really talking about this now, then?” he asks a little hesitantly. It doesn’t feel wrong, per se, just... unusual. New. To suddenly voice the one thing they haven’t mentioned before.

“Yes,” Kurt says and pushes himself away from the counter. “Because why shouldn’t we talk about it, Blaine? Why haven’t we talked about it before?”

Blaine wraps Kurt’s bagel tightly and then peels off the disposable gloves they have to wear when they’re making sandwiches. “I don’t know, actually,” he admits and looks up at Kurt. “I mean, it just became this thing, you know? A funny little inside joke. It kind of felt like talking about it would just...”

“Ruin it,” Kurt finishes for him with a small smile.

“Yeah. Ruin it.” Blaine takes the finished bagel and offers it to Kurt, but Kurt doesn’t take it.

“I... I don’t think it will ruin anything, to be honest,” Kurt says slowly, as if he’s considering his words. “At least I don’t think that anymore. Maybe talking could even make it... better.”

Blaine swallows, his heart thumping against his chest. “You mean...?”

“I mean I don’t want this to be just some funny little joke anymore,” Kurt goes on. His cheeks are tinged with pink. “I think it could be something else as well. Something more?”

The last word comes out as a question, and Kurt looks up, straight into Blaine’s eyes. Blaine feels a shiver run down his spine. He hasn’t noticed it before, but Kurt’s eyes aren’t just blue –- they have specks of green and gray in them as well, a complicated combination of colors swirling together and looking a little different every time Kurt moves his head and the light hits his eyes from a different angle. Blaine feels like he could get lost in Kurt’s eyes, and he suddenly finds out that he would actually like that very, very much.

“What do you mean, ‘something more’?” he asks. He has to make sure, before he says anything else.

Kurt takes the bagel from Blaine and sets it aside. “I mean...” he starts and slowly places his own hand over Blaine’s. His hand feels warm and a little clammy, as if he’s nervous. “Since you obviously don’t have a lot of customers right now, you could... I don’t know, make a sandwich for yourself and come sit down with me?”

He looks up, hopeful and a bit scared, and Blaine’s heart skips a beat inside his chest.

“You mean like a... date?” he asks.

Kurt nods. “Like a date.”

Blaine can feel his face breaking into a smile, and he closes his fingers around Kurt’s hand, squeezing it gently. The smile that spreads over Kurt’s face at that small gesture is the most beautiful thing Blaine has ever seen.

“Yeah,” he says, a little breathlessly. “I’d love that.”

Kurt’s smile turns into an excited grin, and he bounces a little on his feet. “Good,” he breathes out. “Good, that’s... That’s great. I was hoping you’d say that.”

Blaine lets out a laugh and squeezes Kurt’s hand again. Their hands fit together so well, like Blaine’s hand has just always been looking for Kurt’s, for Kurt’s slightly longer fingers and soft skin. He can’t almost believe that this is actually happening –- he’s obviously had a crush on Kurt ever since he first walked into the Bagel Label, but he didn’t think it would ever go anywhere. It was just a thing, a joke no one else would get, but now he’s standing here, holding Kurt’s hand and seeing his amazed smile directed at him, and it’s–- It is amazing. It’s _wonderful_.

“What kind of sandwiches do you like, then?” Kurt asks, still grinning, and swings their hands a little above the counter.

Blaine ducks his head and covers his face with his free hand. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.”

“What?” Kurt squints his eyes playfully. “Don’t tell me you like beef jerky or something?”

“No, I...” Blaine looks up at Kurt through his lashes. “I actually always have a sandwich with chicken, goat cheese, arugula and avocado salsa as well.”

Kurt bursts into laughter and squeezes Blaine’s hand more tightly. “No way! Oh my god, why didn’t you say anything about it before?”

Blaine shrugs, a little embarrassed. “It was a thing, remember? No talking about stuff like that.”

Kurt’s eyes soften. “But we’re talking about it now, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Blaine admits. He can’t stop smiling at Kurt. Maybe he never will. He wouldn’t mind, to be honest.

“I’m glad we are,” Kurt adds.

Blaine strokes his thumb over the back of Kurt’s hand. “Me too.”

Kurt looks at him for a moment, biting his lip, and then he suddenly darts forward, leaning over the counter and brushing a quick kiss on Blaine’s cheek. Before Blaine gets the chance to react, Kurt has already pulled back, grinning and looking proud of himself.

“So,” he says, rocking on his heels. “A date?”

“A date,” Blaine confirms, his voice a little dazed. He has a feeling that’s going to happen more often from now on.

(The next day Blaine is the one who stands on his tiptoes and leans over the counter, placing his hands gently on the back of Kurt’s neck and pulling him in for a proper kiss. Kurt’s lips taste like chicken, goat cheese, arugula and avocado, and through the rush of blood in his ears Blaine can hear Sam whooping and hollering behind him. He doesn’t pay him any attention, though, because Kurt is smiling into the kiss, his hands gripping Blaine’s arms for balance and his eyelashes fluttering as if he’s seeing the same fireworks that are flashing behind Blaine’s eyelids –- and Blaine knows that this thing they have right now is a thousand times better than the thing they had before.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading -- please leave a comment if you enjoyed this one! ♥


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